


Tool

by cosmicpeko



Series: Tool ㅡ Peko's memories [1]
Category: Danganronpa, Danganronpa 2
Genre: Character Development, F/M, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 07:14:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20617079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicpeko/pseuds/cosmicpeko
Summary: Peko Pekoyama dives into her most precious memories in an intimate journey to self-love, trying to live with emotions she can’t control and to discover what it's like to be a real person.





	1. 1 ㅡ Rage

_My voice repeats: _  
_I am a tool. I was brought to this world to be by his side; I shall fulfill my purpose._  
  
Mid-march rain falls on a wet wooden floorboard. Semi-open sliding door of the minka house hidden in the woods allows the wind to enter between the internal walls, run under the furniture, play with the paper on the floor ㅡ it untidies the room.  
  
It caresses blonde hair.  
Freckles expose to the water ㅡ silky smooth skin becomes its path down to the pointy chin, through the neck, hides in the collarbones. Drops rest on his lips, tongue catches them, it drinks. He’s smiling. He’s relaxing every muscle of his body. He’s resting ㅡ he’s letting go. He breathes deeply.  
  
“I love rainy days. It feels like time stops for a while. Doesn’t it, Peko?”  
A calling voice awakens my thoughts. Head raises, shoulders tighten. Humidity hurts my bones, angers my bruises.  
“It does indeed, Young Master.”  
Red eyes wandering to finally meet hesitant green ㅡ I shall converse more, he demands, silently, as he keeps his gaze on me. I apologize.  
“…It feels like the sky is in a rage, too, though slowly but surely, it will pass. It has a rash temper, and it needs to let its anger go, then eventually, it manages to stop. Sometimes, it calms itself immediately, sometimes it destroys everything that falls victim under his reign. Mother Nature gave it immense power over us.”  
Green eyes look delighted. Sweet humming slips from his still-smiling mouth.  
“You always get this poetic, dontcha? It’s a women thing, you give them nothing, they play with words around it until they done covering it in fuckin’ pink and flowers.” He laughs. “How are you even 18? You sound like a nostalgic granny.”  
  
I do not know what being poetic means. I happen to imagine inanimated objects embody different personalities.  
My Master ㅡ he reminds me of the sky. Every mood he owns is similar to its changes. He is calm and still like a summer night, he is impulsive like a storm. He is cheerful and fresh like a newborn sunrise, yet he is pained and melanchonic like a dying sunset. I’ve lived enough to see them all.  
“Does it hurt?” I am unworthy of his worried touch. But I don’t dare to move.  
“It does not, Young Master.”  
“Peko- you’re literally a whole purple thing. Not even a mashed sweet potato looks this ugly.”  
“I do not feel pain, Young Master. I live to serve you at my fullest - I need to be trained.”  
Careless fingers gently press over the darkest spots on my left arm, then retreat, as he searches for even little hisses or whimpers of mine. Not one sound leaves me ㅡ I learned how to control myself with time. But I can still feel it ㅡ broken bamboo swords echoe inside my ribcage. Pristine fists turning purple and blue. Heart broken. Soul stronger.  
“Fine,” his figure rises again and stands tall in front of mine. Distress contained in a self-hug, “I know this is your job and all, but please, don’t push yourself too much. You are already strong enough. Just yesterday, you beat the shit out of that asshole at the pub like he was planning to destroy the world.”  
“I do not deserve your worry, Young Master.”  
“Peko, I said quit that "Young Master” shit-“ he stops, suddenly, eating his own breath. I cannot decipher what is that is eating the perfect green of his iris as his gaze locks into mine. Something I never quite encountered before. Rage ㅡ but not the same as the sky’s, nor the storm. Something different. Hot wind of the desert, carrying sand and flames. Burning hills. Searing gardens.  
  
I am ashamed of how long I have been staring into my Master’s eyes.  
  
Hands rub together, trying to reduce the silence into a paste of aching shame, cold sweat, shivers ㅡ quickening heartbeats.  
"Fuckin’ quit it, Peko.” he repeats, voice calm and still. Summer night. “We agreed on it since we’re starting school together again. I asked you kindly - this is starting to feel like I’m commanding you and I do not. Want. This shit. Got it?”  
Composure fights distress in an internal war I do not desire nor understand. I am still capable of holding myself back.  
“Yes-” tongue plummets in my throat “yes.”  
“My fucking name, Peko.”  
More heartbeats. Uneasiness.  
Silence. Composure.  
“I said what’s my name, Peko.” Head rises. Eyeballs tremble. Rain drips through blonde hair, through freckles, through silky smooth skin. The wind stopped cutting my cheekbones.  
  
“Young Master.”  
  
Quick steps and pace ㅡ few seconds pass before his skinny figure starts rushing towards me.  
Red eyes follow instinctively like those of a fox preying on a rabbit in the snow, hands steady, knees firm.  
Last breath, a millisecond. Hold.  
He does not attack me.  
Instead, he kicks the wall behind me, where my back was laying, seeking relatively satisfying rest. I do not move, but I quiver. He retreats, then shouts.  
“My fucking name, Pekoyama!!!”  
Mind goes blank. Ringing sounds conquer my eardrums in a blink of time.  
  
“Yes, Fuyuhiko!!! For God’s sake!!!”

  
A growl leaves with the wind, scratches my throat and steals my breath. Every wall of the minka house shakes as I step upwards, stand taller than him, confront him unconsciously head-on. Teeth unraveled like fangs.  
  
_“When did you lose yourself, tool?”_  
I want to know. When did I first witness my balance crumble.  
When did I allow emotions to get the best of me. How. How did I lose track of my inner being.  
_“Don’t you ever forget your life’s only purpose. You don’t get to have any other meaning than that.”_  
  
**How dare I confront my Master like that.**  
  
Instead, something is born anew through his face. Simultaneously. Fresh and wet sunrise across shiny lashes.  
He saw me, getting weaker under his command for the first time.  
He knows something I don’t know. He sees something I don’t see.  
He cracked me open.  
  
Delicious chuckles flourish beneath his teeth.  
“Let’s go,” abstract flowers crown his newborn smile, perfume so numbing, “I want to go deer hunting last time ‘fore we join a brand new hellhole.”  
The distance between us increases as he runs outside the safe perimeter, completely run over by pouring rain.  
  
He holds the keys to my soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So hello,,, I really hope you liked this first chapter! More are to come.  
Peko is an extremely fascinating character to me and I can’t wait to dig into her a bit more and let you meet my version of her personality!
> 
> This was heavily inspired by Ahn's beautiful art (@thewildwilds on Tumblr). 
> 
> A special thanks to her, who indirectly taught me to love Kuzupeko in a brand new way - I’m so obsessed with them.


	2. 2 ㅡ Beauty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peko Pekoyama dives into her most precious memories in an intimate journey to self-love, trying to live with emotions she can’t control and to discover what it's like to be a real person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick notes before you start:  
More characters will be mentioned in this chapter and the plot will be a little more consistent this time - while still keeping Peko’s introspective style and thought processing. Remember this is a collection of memories, so the story will follow a timeline, but the episodes are not related. Enjoy!

_My lips whisper:_  
I am a tool. I was brought to this world to be by his side; I shall fulfill my purpose.  


« Remind me why we joined this lame-ass party in the first place. »

I awaken from my dissociation. I forgot where I was ㅡ I don't know how long I was absent.

« Well, for one: you need to step out your yakuza royalty zone and stop being an uptight asshole; for two, this isn't a party, it's an extra-class briefing and as long as class rep wants you here, you come here. Are you afraid we see your momma come pick you up? »   
« I will fucking slit your throat, you nasty pigtailed bitch. »   
« Do it, pussy. I'm waiting. »

Conversations float above my head, never touch my ears. Crimson eyes mix with peach and tangerine lights of a summer sunset. Rays filtered by the see-through texture of the room's curtains. Dust flies around bothered by the slightest movement. Hazy comfort.

"_Are you having fun, tool? Are you relaxed?_"  
Hands stop mid-air, vainly attempting to catch a rivulet of light for myself. To steal it ㅡ they are now cold, uninhabitable.  
"_You are failing, I see,_" heart shakes, "_at keeping your priorities in check._"  
Head immediately turns around, facing the inside of the room. Analyzing every face. Looking for guilty expressions. Fingers reach for the sword bag, then stop once again. Body is all tensed up. Pure anxiety ㅡ need to control.  
"_Do not let your guard down. Protect your Master._"  
  


In no way I was going to be at peace.  
  


« **_AAAHH!!!_** I can't believe this sewer rat grabbed my kimono!!! Pekoyama, come get your fucking boyfriend!!! »   
« Imma kill you right here, right now, or I swear my last name is not fuckin' Kuzuryuu! »   
« Yakuza is societal filth that can't live in the civilized world and I hope you know that very well!!! »   
The sight of a rather normal teenage scenario unraveling before me ㅡ it's soothing. This is what 'young' looks like. An inaudible sigh leaves me.

« Fuyuhiko. Is there something bothering you? » calm voice keeps a secret ㅡ I would be ready to kill anyone who touches him. First sight is enough to me.  
« You even got your girlfriend to hate me? Fine! You two smell too fishy. Are you yakuza too, four-eyes? » I refrain to reply. Just at first.  
Blonde hair floats on traditional clothing. Face too pretty. Mouth too lousy.  
« I have no reason to hate you, » I wouldn't know how. « You have been screaming for a while now - it's wrecking my ears, and everybody else's in this room. »

« Oi, Saionji. » something in that call alerts me, too. I immediately turn ㅡ to hear soft chuckles. Hands waving innocently. Pale and sickly. His walk is unbalanced in a way that disturbs me.   
« I advise you not to provoke the swordswoman in any way. She might hurt you real bad, » he lowers his sight, « ...hehe- and I mean, serious boo boo. You wouldn't mess with such a wonderful couple anyway, would you? »   
Something about this person is not healthy, both physical and mentally speaking. He reminds me of a haunted house ㅡ terrifying. Abandoned on its own pity. With empty rooms and hollow hallways ㅡ inhabited by ghosts only he can see.  
« What's this? A congregation of rats?! And like, aren't you fucking dead already? »  
« You're right, » chuckles, « I should be. I wonder why that hasn't happened to me already, given my circle of luck- »  
  


«_ **YOOOOOSHHHH!**_ We now announce you - we?? Well I, me, myself, Ibuki Mioda - I'm bored!!! »   
  
  
Everything in the room ceases to exist for a minute, overshadowed by this loud screaming entry. Mioda ㅡ overwhelming. Personified hyperactivity. Too much energy unchanneled.  
« Since this meeting seems to come to nnnooouu~ conclusion whatsoever, » Mioda has this way of speaking that would make my sword terribly easy to wield. "We - we?? No I, me, myself, Ibuki Mioda - decided to start having fun - in the girls' way!!! »   
« Oh, here we fuckin' go- »   
« **SHUT UP!!!** We're hosting a makeover!!! I'm gonna make you shine with a perfect look!!!" her expression changes drastically in a fistful of seconds, « I need a volunteer though. »   
I find myself even more puzzled. I wouldn't quite know how this would be fun. In fact, I am convinced I have ever experienced that kind of amusement in any way, at this point. Only the thought of it ㅡ a context where I do not possess self-control. Where I am not focused enough. Uneasiness inducing thoughts ㅡ they make me frown immediately.  
« Oh??? And why is Komaeda even here?!? The boys spent the entire afternoon looking for you- »   
« I've always been inside this house. » eerie man speaks again. Voice is incredibly pacifying. It clashes with his spectral look. « Besides, I would rather not spend all my time with those idiotic peasants. To be fair, I'm here to get away from them. May I share a suggestion for who you should do this makeover to? »   
His eyes wander for a little more just for the suspance. Greyish and dull.   
They find me very soon, and try to lock into mine. I secure an exchange of glances before I retreat into something more comfortable ㅡ like afternoon warm rays posing and reflecting on the almost unsettling white of my skin. I tried to outrun him. In vain.  
  


« Pekoyama Peko, perhaps? Will you have the guts to accept the duty? »  
  


I can hear my Master gulp from a distance.  
« **_YOOOOSSHHH!!!_** Then it's settled!!! » she took the suggestion before I could reply. Komaeda grins like he defeated an enemy. « I'll gather all the girls here!!! Take a seat and enjoy the ride~! »   
Anything that happens in between the moments is way beyond my knowledge. Eyes immediately to my Master as soon as my classmates push me into the project. A part of me needs to let him know I am fine, in every context. Istinct. Pure guts.

Hands and tools start unbraiding my hair, let it flow on my shoulders. Some other are on my face. I close my eyes. Panicking. Uncontrolled discomfort. Every inch of my body is ready to fight back the danger.  
But there is no danger.  
The danger is an illusion. And this illusion ㅡ I feel it wrecking me. Making me paranoid, and at the same time, always ready to protect. A machine, brought to life to be forever on the edge. Walking on the thin layer between total control and madness. This, this will make me mad.  
  


« Peko, you have the longest hair ever. It's a pity you always braid them!!! You reaaaally have this beauty potential- I'm sure Fuyuhiko agrees with me!!! »  
  


I feel my eyelids snap open. No one is allowed to even breathe his name. I frantically look for him. I can't see between the many bodies. I can't keep in control of things.  
I start to panic even more.  
I never felt this. Never.   
But control needs to be the first thing.   
My Master needs to be the first thing.   
My life is in forever duty. His safety is my duty. I do not have time for this. I do not have permission for this. I do not deserve-  
  


« **WE DONE!!!** Classmates, be gone. Let the girl admire the Gods' work!!! »   
Mioda's high pitch in distance shuts everything silent. In my brain. In the room.  
Bodies have left my side, letting light fill my now-closed eyelids again. I can feel its warmth. And I don't want to wake up from the dream of ignorance.  
But voices urge me. Impatient vibes torture my spine. I need to confront it.

I decide to ㅡ so blood-shot iris anxiously point the picture on the mirror before me.  
And they don't recognize it.  
  


On the other side, mirror Peko's hair is completely free, fallen gently on her shoulders, on her back. Sweet curls rest on her body. Face is filled with light makeup, to contour, to refine ㅡ the beauty of the picture, and the ugliness of the inside.

I can not handle this.  
This is so new, so unexperienced. So beyond my knowledge of reality. My image has drastically changed ㅡ I can not see the pain anymore. I can't feel the hardness of the skin anymore. The sorrow. The solitude.  
The constrained acceptance of my fate.  
_Tool._  
Mumblings inside my head are gentler.  
_Tool. _  
Faces all around me are gentler.   
_Tool. _  
The world feels lovely to my heart.  
_**Tool. Tool. Tool. Tool. Tool. Tool. Tool. Tool. Tool.**_

« Well? Peko???! Moshi moooshhh??? »   
  
I can't help it. I can not help but struggle to live with this new truth that is unraveling before me. I need to go back to reality.

**How dare I. How dare I. How dare I-  
**   


« Will you shut the fuck up? Both of you! Mioda, Saionji, and even Komaeda - yes I see you! Fucking stop!!! »  
A splash of freezing water leaving me breathless ㅡ His voice.  
His rushed breath, his running towards me.  
His hands on me.  
Everything is just right the moment he comes back to my side. I sense him reading me, like the title of an old book lying on a low shelf.

He knows something I don't know.  
He sees something I can't see.

Something I need.  
  


« Peko. You really are beautiful, » he says. Not even a flinch on his face ㅡ he wouldn't dare to show weakness in public. But I can sense it. His true self.   
« You deserve this moment. »  
  


My mind loses it, slowly, entering a coma of self-soothing mumbling.  
I feel my eyes water instantly.  
Painful drops suddenly tear my skin.

« What??? What the heck?? You made her cry!!! »   
« I said close your fucking mouth or I swear to God- »   
« You're not supposed to make her cry!!! Oh Lord of make up- please forgive him! »  
« Mioda, **one more word!!!** »   
« You made your girlfriend cry!!!! Watch her being desperate and know it's your fault! »   
« Ah...the hope and despair born from love...how strangely beautiful...how terrifying... »   
« You really should be dead already!!! »

Voices fade, as I close my eyes again, indulging myself in a moment of wet abandonment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooorrryyyyyy for keeping you wait! This is the second chapter of our dear Peko’s memories collection!  
I really want to thank you for the overwhelming support I received for the 1st chapter. I did not see that coming!!! Thank you so much ;_;
> 
> Ps. I might need to call off the weekly update restriction, cause I find it kinda...limiting? I really need inspiration to work, I can’t afford to feel pressured on this too ;; sorry guys. But I’ll still be quick cause I already have the story aaaall in my head. See you soon with the next chapter!  
Also, any kind of sharing and support will be deeply appreciated!
> 
> Next chapter hints: We’ll get a bit more into something we’ve already seen in Danganronpa, both the story and the game. Even with the episode being canon, I’ll describe it using something out of my fantasy. Hope you’ll love it!


	3. 3 ㅡ Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peko Pekoyama dives into her most precious memories in an intimate journey to self-love, trying to live with emotions she can’t control and to discover what it’s like to be a real person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick notes before you start:  
This is something that canonically happened in Danganronpa 2 and 3, so this might be a little spoiler for some of you (sorry! I needed to follow a real timeline).  
Other warnings: semi-graphic depiction of violence, slightly gore.  
Enjoy!

_My thoughts reminisce:_  
I am a tool. I was brought to this world to be by his side; I shall fulfill my purpose.  
  


**I see blood.**  
All around.  
All on him.  
All on her.  
Who was her. What was her.  
The remains of a pathetic figure laying on the cold floor. Where she belongs. Where she will always belong.  
The glimpse of life slipping between her hands. Falling from her open skull. Dripping from her forever unblinking eyes.

Him.  
Young Master ㅡ he is standing tall, near the body.  
Wide eyes.  
Far from reality. Far from himself.  
He is searching for pride and honor to justify himself.  
Before her.  
Before God.

Floor as slime ㅡ I hear my own heartbeat. Eardrums shattered.  
My body and my heart are ready for action. Leaving nothing for thoughts.  
Readiness ㅡ is an unconscious mechanism.  
Fists closed.

« You had to call me for this, Young Master. You had to command me. This is what I should be here for. »  
Unhealthy explosion of emotionality that clouds my judgement ㅡ I’ve felt this before. I know this. I don’t need this. I don’t want this.  
I inhale.  
Then exhale.  
Inhale.  
Exhale.  
Inhale.  
  


**« I killed the bitch. »  
**   


Exhale.

« I am the one who did this. »  
Green eyes reveal total emptiness. Freckles that tasted of summer on his skin now resemble black stains on a pale white board.  
Pools of blood are where his watch is headed to.  
He’s not here.  
« Young Master, please refrain to look at the corpse. » I did not intend to be this morbid. « Listen to me. We’re doing this togheter. Please… »  
Useless is every word I call aloud to divide him from the unsettling view. They echoe between the walls of an hollow corridor.

Inside the girl’s own house.  
  


She was alone. And she knew. She saw it coming, every day. Every minute.  
And I, myself, knew it too.  
I was preparing my sword, every day. Every minute.  
I knew my own fate. I knew my mission.  
I was ready to kill.

But I failed.

I let my Master take responsibility for something I had to do first.  
Killing people is not his job, and it didn’t have to be.  
I am so afraid to lose him ㅡ I start to panic.

**I would tear each and every limb of my skin just to fit all of his pain inside me. **And free him from it.  
  


Quick thinking.  
In a hurry, I enter her own room ㅡ not a moment to stop to look at her possessions.  
At her smiling pictures hung on the wall.  
Not for a moment I am moved by her scent, still lingering, present, between the sheets I am stripping the bed from.

She has no value to me.

The only priority is dividing the body from my Master’s watch; preparing and delivering it to the Kuzuryuu family as prize for the vengeance, second.  
Offering some first-hand preparation to the pitiful corpse, her own sheets I tuck her lifeless self with.  
Laces ripped out of my shoes, tight around her.

It takes all my will to have respect for the dead.  
  


Clothes drenched in blood, I approch my Master again.  
I dare to move before him.  
« Young Master, please look at me. Please. »  
I find myself quivering as I keep staring at his eyes ㅡ drained.  
Hands slowly reach for the bloody weapon, trying to take it from him.  
He’s gripping it. Holding onto it for dear life.  
Breathless. I shake his shoulders, obtaining just some uncomprehensible muttering. His body tensing as if it’s turning into stone.

I don’t realize I’ve been biting my lips until I had my own blood resting on my tongue. Quickly suck it off. Swallow.  
He can’t stand more blood than that.  
Thought I could block the view, but he’s seeing through me.

Or he’s not seeing at all.  
  


**« I did this for Natsumi. »**  
His words snap me out of it not even a second before I totally went berserk. Stop the thinking. Focus.  
« I cracked the bitches fucking skull. With this baseball bat. »  
The muttering suddenly transforms into precise and lucid statements.

Inhale.  
Exhale.

« Fuyuhiko, » gripping his arms, « Say it. Many times. »  
The approach is stupidly risky. And my only chance. « As many as you need. Please. »  
The stake is high.  
I’m inducing the trauma, attempting to unlock his brain.  
For the first time, I am not sure of the outcome.  
I have to try. I have to save him.  
For I know, and remember, how it is not to be saved.

His lips start to tremble again.  
  
« I killed Sato. »  
His chest rising.  
« I killed her. I killed Sato. »  
« Yes, » warmth under his skin. « Yes, you murdered her, Fuyuhiko. You took her life with one single blow. »  
He is looking at me with wide eyes. Hollow. Struggling to reach out to me. Pure horror.  
« I killed her. » he repeats, « I killed her. » he quivers, « …I killed her. » he takes more than a pause to breathe.  
Sour tears.  
  


« …I…I… »

He finally realizes.

« Oh my God…Peko… »

One instant.

I grab his entire body. Push it onto mine, embrace it. Tight.  
As I break any formality between us just by making him feel my body against his ㅡ his entire being crumbles.  
**He cries so loud he shouts**.  
He grips my clothes on my back. Loosing them. Marking my skin with his nails as he’s trying to climb his way back to reality. Ribs shaking so much I am worried he could break them just like this.

I am witnessing my Master searching for my protection for the first time.

I do not know what is he trying to reach for until I feel it exploding inside me.  
Waterfalls ㅡ I cannot help but crying, as I realize too, holding my Master’s body entirely, I want to be with him forever.  
How painful it is ㅡ to hear his sorrowful cries, to feel his bones cracking under my touch.  
How beautiful it is ㅡ to feel what they call **love**.  
I hide within the softness of his blonde hair.  
I inhale his perfume, feeling it overpower the smell of blood around us.  
I hear no sound, other than the pace of his breathing, slowing down.

The world is straying further from this moment.  
  


« Look at me. » I whisper, aiming to better calm him down.  
Hands grab his face softly. Slowly rise his head little low to my own.

Fool me ㅡ I was not ready.  
  


I’m choking on my own breath.  
Air blocks in my lungs, in my stomach. Then leaves me.  
Subtly.  
Eyebrows frown in a blink of time. My eyes, filled with a unique kind of light ㅡ the same which I witness, appearing in his.  
He’s so close, I feel him stealing my soul.  
  
**« I will protect you, Fuyuhiko. »**  
A promise freed from any written fate ㅡ for a moment, I am human.  
I possess human will, human warmth. I am human just enough to be with him. Just to let him feel me.  
To be _home_ for him.

« We ain’t fit for this, Peko. This whole yakuza vengeance shit. »  
I swallow more breath as I hear him talking. His voice scratching his throat on the way to me.  
« We leave right now. We close accounts with my dad, then we fuckin disappear. I was never fit for this role anyway. I’m a coward, to the core. »  
He does not fully realize, cloudy mind ㅡ he is the only one left for his family.  
  
A duty is to be fulfilled, higher than mine, higher than anybody else’s.  
I know better than my Master knows ㅡ you can not escape that bound.  
Some things are to be done, and we, what are we if not desolate pawns, my dear Fuyuhiko, what is our value in a greater scheme?  
What is the meaning of our life, if not to suffice the roles defined for us?  
Is it even possible to escape it ㅡ do we find salvation in what we feel?  
  


« Let us dispose of the body first. »  
« Peko. Say you will run with me. Say it. »  
  
As I lose myself in sweet caressing his skin,  
My heart breaks in a million pieces.  
**I would run with him forever.  
...**

« I will follow your orders, Young Master. »

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh ~ our wonderful lady finally realizes she actually WANTS to be with Fuyuhiko... it’s not a duty anymore... ahhh my shipper feels ~
> 
> I seriously hope this chapter did not disappoint you. Disjointed narration is soooo difficult when you want to describe lots and lots of details in your heart, like, Sato’s home, the terrible smell of blood, or how Fuyuhiko embrace felt like... ╰(▔∀▔)╯
> 
> Please support the ff both here and on Tumblr! Only a few chapters left!
> 
> Next chapter hints: it’s going to be VERY complex, VERY abstract, VERY hard to read. Like a Picasso. It will leave a huuuuge space for opinions and interpretations. Two major characters will be starring the story as well. Someone you might love or hate... +__+
> 
> See you on chapter 4!!!


End file.
